Mr Cucchiaio
by Lupiniun Star
Summary: When Germany goes on a vacation, what'll Italy do? He'll find a new friend to hang with for then, of course! But how'll Germany react to this? GerIta. Prizefic.


This story is a prizefic for my friend Avrel the Teller since she did the first review on Congratulations! She wanted a story with GerIta. It had to have... training, sleeping, pasta, a spoon, books, soccer, and a chair. So it's official. The whole fact that THIS was the very first thing that popped in my head makes me insane. O.o Remember, this is a oneshot though.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

**-/Hetalia/-**

"Germany, I don't want to run anymore," Italy whined, falling backwards to the ground. Japan passed him, keeping up a slow and steady pace.

"ITALY," Germany stopped in front of his friend. He jogged in place like the excercise-obsessed German he was. "Get your hintern[1] up and MOVE!"

"Geeermaaany, I'm tired. It's time for my siesta. Ve~." Italy yawned and covered his mouth. "Besides, I want pasta! Do you want some pasta Germany? I'll make you some pasta, ve~!"

Germany's eye twitched. He looked around an noticed Japan had disappeared. Why was he always the one who had to deal with Italy? "Italy, we have a World Meeting to go to at England's- ITALY?" Italy was laying on the ground, snoring. Somehow his pants had come off and were laying at Germany's feet. "Italy..." Germany shook his head and pulled Italy's pants back on. He then lifted the smaller nation onto his back and started off to the meeting.

**-/Hetalia/-**

"Yo, Britian! Why'd you make this food? No one's gonna eat it!" America pointed to the large spread of food (all emitting a weird purple atmosphere, may I add) and made an 'uck' face. "You can't cook!"

"I can cook!" England slammed down his tea cup. "You just have no taste! You eat those greasy fast foods! You're going to become fat and die!"

"Ohohohohon!" France laughed. "America is right there. As a French man, I have wonderful taste. And mon ami[2], your food is disgusting! Spend your time on tea and embroidery, Monsieur Sourcils[3]."

England scowled at France. "Why don't you just go and-"

"PASTA!" Italy suddenly sat up in his seat, waking up. "Oh, food, ve~." He took a bite of something and immediantly spat it out. "THIS FOOD IS TERRIIIBLE! MY POOR MOUTH, VE~."

England look depressed. "Is it really that bad?"

"YES!" Italy wiped his tongue with a napkin, trying to get the taste off.

"I rather like it, da?" Russia was force-feeding the food to Lithuania, who looked half-dead. Poland had missed this meeting. Poor Lithuania...

Germany messaged his temples and sighed. He had a headache. Why did it always seem like he was the only serious one at these meetings?

"West! Hey, how's the meeting going without the AWESOME me?" Prussia came up draped his arm around his younger brother's shoulders.

"Bruder[4], you are not supposed to be here. You are no longer a country, remember?" Germany twisted around to look at the ex-nation.

"Ja, ja[5]. I know. But how can a meeting be any good without the awesome me?" Prussia grinned and shrugged.

"Shouldn't have the security stopped you?" Germany raised an eyebrow at his elder sibling.

"Ja, they should have." Prussia's grin widened. "Kesesesese! I used a chair to fight them off." That's when Germany noticed the large wooden chair Prussia held. One leg was broken and the head rest was hanging on by a thread.

"Mein Gott!" Germany stared at the banged up chair. "Did you beat them to death, Bruder?"

"Kesesesesese!"

"Germany! Help me, ve!" France had his rape-face on and was approaching the trembling Italian. Germany stood up and knocked his his chair over as he did.

"Everyone! We have gathered here for a World Meeting for world peace! Now we will discuss what we need to discuss and get out of here!" He saw Italy raise his hand. "Yes, Italy?"

"... PASTAAAA~~~!"

Everyone glared at him, shouting at the same time, "YOU CAN NOT DO THAT EVERY TIME!"

"... Ve~." The sad Italian sank back in his chair.

"Anyways," Germany said, pulling his chair back up and sitting down. "I have some news. I will be going on a vacation in Australia. No one will bother me, including you Italy." He looked directly at Italy.

Italy's eyes widened. "Germany... how long are you going to be gone?"

"Only a week, Italy. You can last that long without me, can't you?" Germany sounded exasperated.

"O-of course I can, Germany!" Italy nodded. "I lasted years without you. One week won't hurt, ve~."

**-/Hetalia/-**

"Fratello, I'm going to stay with you for the week. Ve~." Italy skipped over to his brother Romano.

He scowled. "What? Why, is the potato-bastard gone?" He took a bite out of his tomato.

"Yes, ve~. He's gone for a week to Australia," Italy informed his older brother.

Romano snorted. "Stay by yourself. Spain kept bothering me to stay with him and I finally agreed."

The younger of the two looked saddened for a moment but suddenly brightened up. "Oh! Then I'll stay with you and fratello Spain~."

"I don't mind, but Spain kept saying he 'wanted to spend time alone with me'. The bastard." Romano's face turned sour and he tore into his tomato again. "So, no."

**-/Hetalia/-**

Italy sat around at his house, all alone. ".. Ve," he sighed. "Fratello Romano went to Spain's. Big brother France is going to bother England for a week. Even Japan can't hang out." He laid back on the couch for a minute before springing to his feet. "So sapere[6]! I will make myself some pasta to cheer myself up!" He ran into the kitchen and started on the spaghetti. When he was done he opened up a drawer to find a fork. All he could find was a lone spoon. He picked it up and rubbed it up against his cheek. "Oh Mr. Cucchiaio[7], you're all by yourself. Are you alone too? How about you and I be friends?"

The spoon was silent.

"I'll take that as a yes, ve~." Italy ate his pasta with his new friend ("Scusa[8}, Mr. Cucchiaio, but there is nothing else to eat my pasta with~.") and then came up with an idea.

"How about you read me a book like Germany sometimes does?" He took the spoon into the living room and gave it three books. "Okay, which one do you want?"

The spoon didn't choose.

"Right. I'll choose. Will you read me the red one?" Italy pointed at the small book. Mr. Cucchiaio laid on the couch, still doing nothing. "Haha! I forgot. Spoons can't read! It's okay, ve~." He thought for a second.

"Oh, amico[9], let's play futball!" He carried the spoon outside and grabbed a soccer ball on the way. He reached his backyard and stuck Mr. Cucchiaio into the ground and put the ball in front of it. "Okay. Kick it to me, ve~."

Nothing.

"... Ve? Mr. Cucchiaio, kick it!"

Guess what. More silence.

Italy pouted. "Oh, that's right. Spoon's don't kick." He laid on the ground and closed his eyes. "What can I do with a spoon? Ve... I miss Germany..."

"Italy? Why is a spoon stuck in your backyard next to your futball?" A familar voice came from above. Italy's eyes flew open and the sun shone right in them. He squinted and saw a bonde mop of hair on top of a shadowed face.

".. Holy Rome?"

"What? Who, Italy? I repeat: Why is there a spoon stuck in your yard? And have you been excercising at all? I've been gone two days and you just sat around, didn't you?" The figure sighed.

Italy then realized who it was. "Germany!" He scrambled to his feet. "What are you doing back? Ve~!"

Germany looked down and a blush lightly spread across his cheeks. "I... got lonely."

Italy launched himself at his friend and hugged him tightly. "Germany! You came back because you were lonely? I was lonely too, ve~! Please don't leave me alone again!"

Germany's arms awkwardly circled around Italy as well. "I won't. Is that why there's a spoon in your backyard?"

"Mm-hm. That's Mr. Cucchiaio. He doesn't play futball as well as you. Or read books like you." Italy looked up at Germany.

The blonde raised an eyebrow.

"Germany, why is your hair down?" Italy looked confused.

Germany's blush deepened. "I felt like something different while in Australia and I just didn't bother putting it back."

"I have an idea, Germany! Let's go back together. It'll be a vacation for the two of us, ve~." Italy smiled at him.

Germany smiled softly. "Ja, okay. We'll go together." He looked down at the Italian and suddenly placed a kiss on his forehead.

Italy's face turned red. "G-Germany?"

Germany turned around quickly, face even redder than Italy's. "Th-that was an.. a-apology for leaving like that. I shouldn't have left you."

Italy smiled again. "I get it. Ve~. Thank you, Germany!"

After a few minutes, Germany, complextion back to normal, turned to Italy. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Ah, let me get packed! I'm going to need pasta if we're going to Australia!" Italy was picking up Mr. Cucchiaio. "And I can't leave without my new friend, ve~."

Germany's eye twitched. "Italy?"

"Ve~?" Italy turned around and a pair of lips pressed against his gently. Italy squirmed and his blush returned. Germany kept kissing him, taking the spoon and throwing it on the ground.

He pulled back and gripped the flustered Italian's chin so he couldn't look away. "Italy. Aren't I a better friend than that spoon? Don't you like me better?"

"Y-yes. O-o-of course, Germany," Italy sputtered, avoiding Germany's eyes.

"Italy, look at me. You still coming back to Australia with me?" Germany looked down solemnly at his fellow country.

Italy's eyes met his. "Ve.. Yes," He said quietly.

"Wunderbar[10]," the German said, eyes softening.

**-/Hetalia/-**

[1] - Butt in German. xD Somehow I think I'm not right though..

[2] - My love in French.

[3] - Mr. Eyebrows in French. *laughs*

[4] - I imagine most people know that this means brother in German.

[5] - Yes in German. Geez, I'm using more German then I thought I would.

[6] - I know in Italian.

[7] - Italian for Mr. Spoon. =D That's right, the story is named Mr. Spoon. XDD

[8] - Sorry/pardon in Italian.

[9] - Friend in Italian. Have to stop using foreign words. Sorry, guys. DX

[10] - German for wonderful. And it is, isn' it? =D

Ah, this ended up a shorter story than I usally write. Sorry, Twigs. Hoped you liked it at least. I don't know how I came up with this plotline. I mean, really? 'Germany leaves and Italy has to make friends with a spoon'. Really, me, really? O.o

Ha, that was fun. I do like this pairing. I hope I didn't make anyone TOO OOC. Review and tell me what you think! :D


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